On Fashion, Makeup, And Feminism...Again.

A few days ago, I wrote a post stating my intent to cease blogging and yet here I am today, compelled once more to write. I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past few days about my Best Defense post, and I've come to some conclusions that I'd like to share.

I've fallen down a bit of a rabbit hole in regards to feminism of late. It's easy to do, what with the plethora of information about any topic imaginable available at your fingertips 24 hours a day. I'd been reading like crazy -- some of it uplifting, some depressing, lots of it downright frightening -- and while I believe it is important to stay informed about the issues one cares about, I also believe it is possible to hit a point of over-saturation. When this happens to me, it creates a sort of tunnel vision that distorts the big picture and causes me to become confused about how I really feel. It can also be kind of a drag and a real drain on my emotional well-being.

Yes, I was obsessed with fashion growing up. Yes, I was also incredibly insecure. Yes, I do believe there is a link between the two. As a teenager trying to figure out how she fits into the world, it can't be helpful to the self-esteem to constantly stare at the faces and bodies of the most beautiful women in the world, particularly when their beauty has been "enhanced" by lighting and makeup, clever pinning of clothing, and of course, Photoshop. I wanted desperately to live up to those images, but knew that I never could. There's a certain amount of insecurity that just comes with being a teenager, it's part of the deal, if you will. But I definitely wasn't doing myself any favors with my model obsession.

But what I realized the other day after extensive correspondence with my best friend (slash therapist slash Restorer of my Sanity) is that my own experimentations with fashion in high school were, in a lot of ways, a boost to my self-esteem. I was terribly shy as a teenager. And I mean bona fide social anxiety shy. Profuse sweating, increased heart rate, crippling nervousness: these were things I experienced on a daily basis. Clothing gave me an outlet for expressing myself without having to say a word. And I used that outlet to the fullest extent possible, dressing myself in ensembles that were unique, provocative, silly, and strange. It amuses me now to imagine what my parents must have thought of some of the clothing combinations I put together, but I am forever grateful that they allowed me to express myself in this way. As a shy, insecure teenager trying to define herself, in a lot of ways, fashion was a life-saver. What if, instead, I had turned to drugs and alcohol as a way to cope with my shyness? My life may have turned out far differently than it has.

(Actually, as I wrote that last sentence, it occurred to me that my eventual move towards more conventional/trendy clothing and my eventual experimentation with drugs and alcohol happened simultaneously, when I went away to college. Interesting.)

My relationship with fashion and makeup has changed considerably over the years, especially since becoming a mother, and particularly since the birth of my daughter. As I wrote about in Best Defense, I've been working on becoming more comfortable with the face I was given, sans makeup. I still believe this to be a healthy endeavor and I feel good about continuing that process, but I'm also starting to realize that I'm being too hard on myself. I like to wear makeup sometimes! It's not like every time I put it on I'm staring into the mirror hating myself. On the contrary, it often feels like a much-needed dose of self-pampering! And I enjoy piecing together a sharp little outfit for a lunch date with the hubby or a night out with the ladies. It makes me feel good and, gosh darnit, I really don't think there's anything wrong with that! Does it define me as a person? No. Is it frivolous? Sure, but who the hell cares?! People do all sorts of frivolous things for pleasure. It's called entertainment. And in a world that is, in a lot of ways sad and scary, a little bit of fun and entertainment is not only okay, it's necessary.

Feminism is about equal representation, equal opportunity, and equal rights. It is not about making yourself feel guilty for deriving pleasure from something as frivolous as fashion. And anyone who believes you can't be a feminist and still love fashion has a very narrow view of the world, in my humble opinion. (Thank you, Keri, for helping me to remember that about myself.)

When I think of the type of person I want to be, for myself and as a model for my children, I think of someone who cares passionately about what is happening in the world; someone who does their best to make the world a better place; someone who doesn't necessarily need to talk about their morals and ethics but does their best to live by them; someone who is kind and loyal and free; someone who makes mistakes and learns from them; and, perhaps above all, someone who chooses to live joyfully, to laugh wildly and often, to love with abandon, and find pleasure in the little things.

It is important to me to continue to learn and grow, but if I beat myself up or allow myself to succumb to The Heavy, I am robbing myself of potential love and joy. Without those things, well, I really don't see much point to living at all.